


into your arms i fall

by probee



Category: NCIS
Genre: Canon Divergent, Domestic Fluff, F/M, probably season 10+ au, where we were allowed to have nice things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22058875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probee/pseuds/probee
Summary: Everything is the same until it isn't anymore.
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	into your arms i fall

**Author's Note:**

> What better way to close out a hell of a year than with some domestic fluff? In my head this is in some sort of AU season 10 or 11 where nobody left and everyone got to be happy and grown-up, but it could take place pretty much anytime I suppose.
> 
> Happy New Year everyone!

She sits cross-legged on the floor, back against the side of the bed, mind racing a mile a minute. She is here, but she is not really _here_.  
  
Wearing his old OSU sweater like a cocoon, swallowed up whole in its tattered cotton embrace, she fixates on a knot in the hardwood in front of her, mesmerized by the swirls and grateful for a distraction on right now.  
  
“You know, traditionally one sits _on_ the bed, not next to it.”  
  
It takes a second for his voice to register, to bring her out of her daze, until she finally looks up at him and smiles halfheartedly. She’s far too preoccupied to answer him, but his presence is comforting. (Is always comforting.) Instead of giving her a hand to get up, he sits down next her, mirroring her own stance.  
  
“I was wondering where that shirt went. Should’ve known you were hoarding it.”  
  
“Mmm, finders keepers, is that not what you always say?”  
  
It is a good sign that she is engaging with him. Even if it’s half-assed. She’s been on auto-pilot since this morning, a tad quieter than usual to outsiders, but he can tell she’s been circling outer space all day.  
  
Her phone is on the floor in front of her, the numbers on the screen counting down. The pixels forecast the minutes rolling into seconds, hurtling them into oblivion.  
  
They sit in silence for the final stretch, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Finally, the sound of the alarm brings them back down to earth, and they catch each other’s eyes, willing themselves to take action.  
  
“Well, here goes nothing, right?”  
  
She takes a deep breath. He keeps his eyes trained on her.  
  
“You want me to…?”  
  
“No, it’s fine, I’ll go.”  
  
She pushes herself up off the floor and heads into the bathroom, while he remains firmly planted on the floor, rapping his fingertips on the rug underneath him in an attempt to pass the time.  
  
As though he cannot be alone for twenty whole seconds.  
  
He watches from his stoop as she reappears in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, completely entranced.  
  
“It’s positive.”  
  
She finally looks up from the stick in her hands to meet his gaze.  
  
“I’m pregnant.”  
  
This prompts him get up. (He feels like this is a conversation that definitely needs to happen while standing up.) His face remains stoic. It drives her crazy, because he is always her guiding light and more than anything she needs to understand what to think in this very instant.  
  
“How do you feel about that?”  
  
_So much for that_. She has to gather herself.  
  
“I… I am… shocked.” She figures honesty is the best policy at this point. If they’re telling each other things, then nothing can matter much more than this. “I can’t believe this happened. I mean, I know _how_ this happened—” he smirks at this, because how this happened involved a birthday party and several bottles of wine and giggling in the dark and _fuck it it’s fine just take your pants off already_ , “but… We have not even talked about this yet. Any of this. _This_ has been great—” she gestures between them, “really, really great— but… A baby? Us? _Now_? We have not even told anyone we are… whatever it is we are.” She throws her hands up, and ordinarily he’d find it adorable if she weren’t freaking out so much.  
  
“I’m pretty sure they’ve figured it out already. McGee won’t look me in the eye anymore when we’re all together. Probably picturing us naked.”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
It does the trick.  
  
“How do _you_ feel?” She turns the tables on him. Has to know she isn’t the only one looking for a lifeline.  
  
“I feel…” he pauses for a second, grasping for the best way to handle this, “that this is a big decision. And I will support whatever you want to do.” His words are careful, precise. Enigmatic.  
  
Infuriating.  
  
“Not helpful.”  
  
“It’s the truth, though.”  
  
Panic begins to bubble within her.  
  
“This is not the right time. Our jobs are our lives. We cannot even keep food in our apartments. Neither of us know anything about babies. You still break into a cold sweat when anyone under the age of sixteen comes within half a block of you!”  
  
Normally, he would feign offense, but this is not the time. He stays still in this same spot next to the bed. He’s overwhelmed, he really is, but for the time being his priority is her. This she has to process for herself before he will allow himself to do the same. So he lets her.  
  
“Tony, you and me and a baby, that is crazy.”  
  
She scans the room for a focal point to ground her, but it’s useless. The tears rise in spite of her best efforts.  
  
_But_.  
  
“But… Tony, _we’re having a baby_.”  
  
It is the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard, but the realization hits her like a freight train. She’s smiling through the tears now, because suddenly nothing has ever been clearer to her. This is absolutely the wrong time, but she’s never been more certain of wanting anything in her entire life.  
  
Except for when she sees his ear-to-ear grin emerge before her, which casts away any fear she’s had.  
  
_She loves him_.  
  
“We’re having a baby,” he replies confidently as he bridges the gap between them. “ _We_ are having a _baby_ ,” he whispers again, close enough that he can touch her cheek, and he draws her in for a kiss. “Ziva, you sure about this?”  
  
“I am sure.”  
  
They both laugh, nervously but fully. They kiss some more. And even cry a little for good measure.  
  
(This had to be her choice, of this he had no doubt. But if it were up to him he wouldn’t have changed a thing.)  
  
“Look at me,” he asks as they break away for a second, “all that other stuff, we can figure out along the way. Take us: we made it this far and our parents didn’t know what the hell they were doing.” This elicits another chuckle out of her. “We know the important stuff anyway.”  
  
“Which is what?”  
  
“That I love you and you love me, and everything else will work its way out somehow.”  
  
It is a bold statement. She holds back the tears again, because the whole _love_ thing is still new for them, something that feels like it might be all a dream she doesn’t want to wake up from, but she realizes she can no longer avoid.  
  
She believes in him, and that is enough for now.  
  
He pulls her in for a hug — one of those bear hugs that makes her feel safe and protected from the world and leaves her wondering how she ever lived without this — and they both let reality set in.  
  
They’re going to be parents.  
  
And this bad timing couldn’t have been any more perfect.  
  
“You know what this means though, right?”  
  
Her eyes go wide in confusion, as though already he is one step ahead of her.  
  
“They’re gonna have to find room for a car seat in the van. McGee can’t call shotgun anymore.”  
  
She laughs, heartily, the absurdity of it all washing over her.  
  
They are a family, and they are going to be fine.


End file.
